


This Started Out with Mediocre Intentions

by fiveyaaas



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, also if you expect me to believe, and DIDN’T make Five friendship bracelets, and the power of 90s/early 00s bffs, five never left in this, it devolved into crack like fluff, side alluther and minor benkliego, so they have cellphones, that vanya was a 90s kid/ 00s teen, then you don’t understand fiveya, this fic actually started out with the intent of being super smutty fun fact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25948240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveyaaas/pseuds/fiveyaaas
Summary: “So, Daddy Dearest is a billionaire, right?” Klaus started.“Yeah?” Vanya was worried where this was going. It could not possibly be good.“And if one of us got married, he’d have to give a present, right?”“Oh no.”
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy/Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 16
Kudos: 250





	This Started Out with Mediocre Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a smutty fake wedding idea where Vanya and Five were trying to take advantage of the fact that Reginald is indeed a billionaire, but it somehow became a fluffy crack fic. So. Do with that what you will.

**Prologue: June 1st, 1994**

Grace Hargreeves, an android tasked with raising seven children; providing maternal love; and being the spy for Sir Reginald Hargreeves, loved the seven children as much as an android was able. Which, to be completely honest, is not much considering the nature of what she was, but it felt like a world of compassion to all seven of them when they were five years old. They had just started to call her Mom, already beginning to follow the narrative that Reginald would spin of them being a “family.” If they called themselves a family, one must understand, they would have a story to tell anyone who looked just a little too long about the concerning thought of the six who would regularly risk their lives doing jobs that children simply should not do later.   
  


Grace, for her part, tried the best she could to fit this narrative. How much of that was based on the fact that her wiring told her to do so is a different conversation. When she first switched from nanny to mother, she had a few hiccups as far as what she could encourage out of her children. Reginald did not want them truly to be treated like children, and there had been no clear lines set. As a being incapable of having her own thoughts and modes of understanding anything emotional beyond the artificial compassion she was coded with, she encouraged a lot of things that Reginald himself would not. However, in doing so, the side effect was that the children trusted her much more than if Reginald had his own discretion on every single one of her actions taken for them. 

This was how it ended up that two of the children under her care ended up having a small “wedding” ceremony performed together. It had been suggested after she had been reading a book to them with the word “wife” in it and all of the kids were confused about the prospect. She had explained to them that husbands and wives were best friends forever who lived together for the rest of their lives. 

“Can Number Seven be my wife?” Number Five had asked. She had blinked a few times, trying to find the answer to that but found her programming had never prepared for such a question before. The kids seemed concerned in her lack of speaking, so she worked through the glitch in her system to halt their distress.

She went with the reply she always gave when she didn’t know the answer. “Of course, dear.”

“Okay, Number Seven, you’re my wife,” Five had said, nodding to Seven curtly, seeming much older than five years old right then and yet with the same confidence only a five year old was capable of having at all times. 

“Wait, you’re supposed to have a wedding,” Number Three pointed out. “Right, Mom? Don’t they have to have a wedding to be married?”

Grace blinked, deciding that this was indeed common practice before people could be a married couple. “Yes, I believe they do. I will ask Pogo for that to be arranged, children.” 

Pogo had frowned at the android upon finding out the information, but ultimately he had seen no harm in it and didn’t even mention the fact to Reginald (because he knew the idea would be shot down, and Number Five was already proving to be a difficult child. If Sir Reginald had asked, he simply would have said it was a bargaining chip to make Number Five stop throwing plates when he didn’t like the food they ate.) 

If Pogo were being completely, entirely honest, he also thought the prospect of them having a little fake ceremony for the children was adorable. The kids barely ever had a chance to have fun, and he saw no problem with them having a chance to just be children. He had always had a soft spot for the small Number Seven, and she had tugged on his sleeve when Grace had asked and pleaded with him to do the ceremony.

He made sure to get plenty of disposable cameras prepared for Grace, who had found out that mothers were supposed to take pictures of their kids and immediately tasked herself with the process. She and Pogo kept them in photo albums away from Sir Reginald, Pogo knowing that he would not appreciate the children being _treated_ like children. It was the small things he could do, all underhanded. He would always follow Reginald’s direct orders, but the thought of denying the children of every possible aspect of being kids had never sat right with him. Pogo told himself that it was just ensuring that they would be more loyal to Reginald, that he would tell that to Reginald if he ever inquired further. 

Number Five and Number Seven planned for their “wedding” with about as much success as one would expect from two five year olds. Naturally, they didn’t know what a wedding entailed, by any means. Number Three, however, had found all there was to find about weddings through asking Grace. Number Three, after finding out about the position of flower girl, had found a very good use for her new power. Having walked up to Number Five and hearing a rumor that he and Seven deeply wanted her to be their flower girl, Allison grew quickly intoxicated with the power.

Number Six, being one of the only ones to know how to read quite yet after forcing Pogo to teach him, would be “officiating.” Number Four would be the ring bearer, a consolation prize for being a flower girl (though he argued that he knew much more about the meanings of flowers and he deserved the title). Number Two, who did not want to do anything, was given the task of giving Number Seven away, which Number Three figured wasn’t that important of a job anyway. Number One was asked to be the best man, and Number Three also took it upon herself to be maid of honor. She felt that she was talented enough to do both. 

Number Five and Number Seven went through vows that Grace wrote for them diligently, and made their marriage official with a quick hug (Grace caught this on camera, having the rare chance to document Number Five offering a sign of physical affection with one of the others.)

Grace had been right about one thing- Five and Seven _would_ be best friends forever (and one day, many years later, they would actually get married, and that time it _would_ be real.)

  
  


**It Started Out with Mediocre Intentions: November 7th, 2017**

Vanya frowned at Five, her lifelong best friend, who was currently using the walls of her apartment as a chalkboard. He had just recently started working as a theoretical physics professor, and he was trying to formulate what Vanya suspected to be impossible problems for his students’ finals. 

“You could give them a break,” Vanya suggested. “If you get any more harsh with them, I’ll have to call you Reginald, Junior.” 

Five scowled, turning around from the walls finally to face her. “How heinous were you willing to be to get me to turn around?”

Vanya grinned. “If only the others knew that you were _nice_ compared to me.”

Five blinked over to her, settling against her couch with the ease of someone who basically lived in her apartment. He had his own, which was in a much nicer neighborhood, but the vague, grumbled reasoning he gave every time she pointed that out was “yeah, so I’ve got to protect you, dummy.” 

“If the others find out that I am nicer than you, then I will have known you have betrayed your position as my confidante,” Five told her.

She laughed, laying her head on his shoulder. She was aware Five didn’t usually do physical affection, but, as she was his best friend, she got special privileges. He quickly wrapped his arm around her, already ranting about his students.  
  


Vanya was completely used to Five ranting- at this point, she had mastered the ability of when to nod and when to make a surprised gasp. This was a particularly useful thing with Five because sometimes when he ranted about people’s idiocy it went over Vanya’s head with what they were doing wrong. While she was absolutely fine with listening to him rant, she knew that physics was never going to be her favorite subject. She did enjoy the way Five’s face lit up when he talked about it though, and eventually when he got done ranting, she got to see the easing of his face as he ranted.  
  


She wanted sometimes to brush back his hair when he did it, and then she would feel so confused at the urge. 

“What’s wrong?” Five asked. 

“Why do you ask?” 

“You’re all squinty.”

“No, I’m not.” (She was.)

Five eyed her a second. “Is it that creep in your orchestra?”

“Jeff?”

“Yeah, the one who hits on you at your concerts.”

“He definitely doesn’t.”

“He does, and he’s a creep too. Don’t let him get to you.”

“He’s not the problem,” Vanya sighed. “I’m just confused about something.”

Five flushed. “Oh, I didn’t mean to make you feel stupid for not understanding something in my rants! You’re definitely not-“

“It’s not that!” Vanya rushed to reassure him because his guilt was making him sound like he might start apologizing, which was a thought that deeply disconcerted Vanya. 

“Oh, what is it then?” 

Vanya wished she had let him think she was upset with him because she obviously could _not_ explain to him that she was starting to have confusing feelings about him. She had had confusing feelings about him for quite a while, technically, but it had gotten even worse lately. She suspected it had something to do with the fact that a month ago when she had been drunk on their birthday, she had kissed him. Five had, understandably, freaked the fuck out.

The next day when she was nursing enough of a hangover that she knew he’d believe her, she had claimed she had forgotten the night completely. Five had seemed relieved, confirming her suspicion that letting him think she didn’t know was for the best. 

“Vanya?” Five asked, snapping her out of her reverie. She realized she had been staring at his lips and cleared her throat quickly. 

Frantically, she blurted the first word that came to her mind, “Violin.”

“Violin?” Five was clearly confused. “You’re having trouble with your violin? Is it broken?”

He would offer to have it fixed. Fuck. Think, Vanya, _think._

“There’s a violin, for sale,” she said vaguely. “It is a… nice violin.”

“Okay?”

Now that she was past her inability to speak, she immediately started babbling complete bullshit. “There’s this really nice violin that I saw at the music store recently. I mean, obviously not Stradivarius quality because that would be entirely unbelievable, which is not what this story is. I walked by the violin, and I felt compelled to play. It had such a beautiful sound. But it was too expensive, and I can’t afford it, and I was just thinking of… uh. Money problems.”

Five frowned. “Vanya, if you’re having money problems, you know you can always come to me, right?”

Vanya should have stopped earlier in the babbling. Five had assumed, and, rightfully so, considering she had basically just spelled out that she had money problems, that she needed help with money. 

“Well, not awful money problems,” Vanya amended. “Just. Uh.” She was bombing to apocalyptic proportions. 

“Are you okay?” Five asked. “You look sweaty.”

“Uh.”

Five was about to continue whatever thought he had when somebody broke into her apartment. Vanya screamed, Five grabbed a lamp from her table, which seemed like a worrisome way to impale someone, when Klaus announced, “Honey, I’m home!”

“ _Klaus_?” Vanya and Five asked at the same time. 

“Ugh, yes. Okay, so I had a brilliant idea.”

“That’s concerning,” Five offered. 

“So, Daddy Dearest is a billionaire, right?” Klaus started.

“Yeah?” Vanya was worried where this was going. It could not possibly be good. 

“And if one of us got married, he’d have to give a present, right?”

“Oh no.”

“So, which of you is gonna marry me? Allison, Luther, Ben, and Diego have all said no. Ben and Diego would probably have been okay with it, but they both separately told me that fake marriages were the lamest, most cliché reason a couple could possibly get together. As both of you two and I have only mild sexual chemistry, though, I have decided I will task one of you to do the job,” Klaus started searching through Vanya's fridge as he spoke, making a gleeful noise when he found pizza rolls. 

“I don’t think either of us are going to marry you, Klaus,” Vana told him gently. 

“Oh, you two banging it out finally? _Mon Dieu,_ it only took forty five years,” Klaus wiped a fake tear. 

“We’re only 28,” Vanya commented. “And we are _not_ banging. We’re best friends.”

“We’re best friends,” Five chimed in weakly. 

“And here I thought you two had finally become interesting.”

“Actually, a fake marriage is not an awful idea, though” Five pointed out suddenly. “You really wanted that violin, right? Can’t you register for that?” 

“So, _Vanya_ and I will get married! Excellent. I was expecting to marry Five, but I will gladly lower my expectations for Vanya.”

“ _Lower?”_ Vanya asked at the same time Five said, “Obviously it would be Vanya and I getting married.”

“Vanya, don’t be difficult, you know I love you, but Five is way more domineering than you, and I like that in a partner. Which, by the way, how _dare_ you take Vanya away as my fake fiancée, you control freak?”

“I don’t understand,” Vanya said, feeling her squint come back. “Why would I get married to Five?”

“The violin,” Five told her, using somewhere between a reasonable and imploring tone. “You said you don’t really have money problems but still wanted that violin. You could easily get that! Klaus has a point, considering Reginald is a billionaire, he could easily get you it and everyone would win.”

“I wouldn’t,” Klaus commented. “Wasn’t this supposed to be about me?”

“No.”

Vanya was still perplexed for a few seconds before she remembered the story she had just told Five in hopes of convincing him that she was not attracted to him. And, now, he was suggesting getting married. Granted, it was fake married.

Wait! It was _fake_ married! What better way was there to convince someone that you weren’t attracted to them to a level (that bordered on the level of in love, which you only admitted to yourself when you were crying drunk in the shower) than to get _fake_ married to someone, thus proving that you were so comfortable in your lack-of-relationship with someone that you could fake getting married for free stuff? It was a _genius_ idea. 

“I think we should do it,” Vanya announced. “Get married, that is.”

Five nodded fervently. “Alright. We can have it be a super simple court wedding with a reception that we only invite family to.”

“Wait, do we have to invite Reginald?” Vanya’s nose scrunched.

“He would never go to a wedding,” Five argued. “He hates joy! It’s perfect. He’ll send a gift because Grace will get the invitation and do it for him without asking, and we’ll never even have to interact with him!”

“That’s brilliant!” Vanya encouraged. 

“Did you guys just kick me out of my fake wedding plans?”

“You can be the flower girl.”

“Deal!”

**This Should Have Been Expected: November 12th, 2017**

Five had made a mistake in saying they should invite the others, a fact he realized entirely too late. 

See, the problem with inviting Allison to a wedding (or any major party) was that she found it within her infinite wisdom to take over said wedding. Which would be fine, if Vanya and Five had been planning anything other than just a small, courthouse affair.

Klaus _had_ already been in the room, however, when they had discussed the matter. Naturally, they were in the worst possible position anyways there as Klaus is not known for strict boundaries or a sense of privacy. 

When Allison found out after Five had called her, she had been appalled that he had waited so long. 

“It’s been three days,” Five had said. 

“Three days means the world when I’m planning a wedding. I’m assuming we’re looking for spring, right? Oh, Vanya will be such a lovely bride. She definitely needs a mermaid style gown though, she’s so flat-chested,” Allison mused a few minutes longer about Vanya’s lack of curves (Five felt offended on his best friend’s behalf, but he couldn’t exactly comment on her shape without Allison quickly seeing through what he was about to add.)

“Allison, you’re aware this isn’t a real wedding, right? And that it’s not going to be a big affair? We’re just trying to scam Reginald out of a present.”

“Oh, that’s bullshit, Five.” Allison apparently had already seen through Five’s bullshit somehow.

“It is a fake wedding,” Five insisted, instinctually glancing around his apartment for Vanya’s ears. She was at her own apartment, of course, but he always was convinced she would somehow find out about his stupid feelings. 

“Wasn’t it just two weeks ago when you were crying over the phone about Vanya kissing you at our birthday party and forgetting about it?”

“Wasn’t it just two weeks ago when you told me that you thought about trying to bang it out with sweet, virginal Luther?” he countered.

He could sense Allison’s glare. 

“It’s fake,” Five repeated, for his own benefit. 

“Don’t tell Luther about what I told you.”

Five rolled his eyes. “Please, Luther wouldn’t notice even if I wrote down a full-length novel about your feelings for him and handed it to him.”

“That’s not true. Him being a little clueless about emotions doesn’t make him an idiot, either,” Allison said, always quick to defend him. “Besides, Vanya has no idea about your feelings, and you’re never a jerk about her.”

“That’s because I’m subtle.”

“You tried to third wheel on one of her blind dates.”

“Subtly.”

“How is asking a girl what her intentions are with your little sister subtle? And then proceeding to explain all the methods you’ve been trained in on how to hide bodies?”

“Tons of brothers do that!”

“To creepy dudes!”

“Lesbians can be abusive too, Allison.”

“That’s… Okay, while that may be true, you have _never_ done that on my blind dates.”

“Well, yeah, why would I?”

“Because you’re trying to use the brother thing as an… Why is our family so dysfunctional?”

“We were bought by an eccentric billionaire to form a doomsday cult with the express intent of being soldiers for a possibly non-existent apocalypse, raised to call one another siblings to appease said eccentric billionaire, thereby forcing us into a found family situation- through both desperation of the situation and manipulation in order to have a plausible story in the likely case that child protective services would ask questions, which ultimately made us incapable of understanding which boundaries are meant to exist with us even though some of us _clearly_ don’t view each other as siblings? Despite what any outside perspective might argue?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Allison agreed. 

“Anyways, Vanya and I are having a fake _courthouse_ wedding and you are _not_ planning it.”

“I’ll pay for all of it.”

“In that case, go nuts.”

**You Can’t Spell “Marriage” Without “I” or “Me”: December 2017-February 2018**

Vanya was not entirely certain what convinced her to finally let Allison plan her wedding, but she was pretty certain it was because Allison had heard a rumor that said Vanya was absolutely a-okay with steamrolling. Vanya, who knew that her rumors would go away in about three months, was really hoping that it wouldn’t take quite that long this time. 

It started with the Pinterest board. 

Vanya had been fine, completely fine, with having Allison make a Pinterest board that Vanya could add input on. She thought it would be a great way for Allison’s control freak tendencies to be managed. Allison, however, took one taste of that sweet, sweet control and got addicted. 

At first it was a relatively minor thing. Adding details that Vanya didn’t necessarily want for her wedding but couldn’t verbally object to through the force of the rumor. It quickly became more sinister though. Vanya tried adding a white tuxedo to wear to what was now being advertised by Allison’s PR team as the “wedding of the century.” Fourteen minutes after pinning the nice white suit, it disappeared from the board. Vanya, confused, added it again. It disappeared in thirty seconds. Vanya, terrified that she was being watched by some wedding-obsessed cyberstalker (not entirely a wrong assumption) had called Five and asked if murderers paid attention to Pinterest boards.

“Oh, no,” Five groaned. “This is the work of one particular villain, I’m afraid.”

“Dr. Terminal?”

“What? No! Allison!”

“That’s worse,” Vanya said grimly. 

It was after that conversation and after Five had tried to calmly talk sense into Allison that likely involved some good wholesome threatening that Vanya was kicked off the Pinterest board entirely. 

Five was growing stressed as well. He had tried on two thousand, eight hundred and thirty nine separate suits at this point, and Allison had been horrified by every single one, claiming that maybe it was the groom that was the problem. Five had snapped that maybe she should find another groom, and Allison had told him to not threaten her with reasonable ideas. 

Five had backed off after that, and now he was just giving increasingly ridiculous ideas to piss off Allison. He kept claiming that they were for his dream wedding, but Vanya wasn’t entirely certain how anybody would dream for their ideal wedding to be locked in a bunker with a murder mystery theme. (When Vanya had looked on in horror at him that night, he _did_ confirm that he was just trying to see if Allison would physically implode if he suggested something far enough away from Allison’s fantasy wedding.)

The arguing hit an all-time high when all of the Hargreeves had gathered for a cake tasting. Five kept trying to say that there should be no catering and the guests should all be starved for six days prior and forage for food at the reception. Vanya kept rolling her eyes. Klaus told them they were an adorable couple and they both looked away from each other quickly. 

“I think we should do the strawberry,” Allison said. 

“Vanya’s allergic,” Five reminded her. It was true, Vanya and Five started to eat peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches because of her allergy to the strawberries in strawberry jam and her distinct hatred of grape jelly. 

“How allergic?” Allison asked, glancing up in confusion. Five scowled at her darkly enough that she stopped trying to argue for strawberries. 

“Okay, fine, I just assumed since Vanya has been trying to go so against traditional weddings that she’d want-“

“Going against traditional weddings?” Vanya was pretty sure she was about to snap out of the rumor through willpower alone and go ham on Allison.

“I still think we should have a masquerade,” Klaus piped up. 

“The only times when masquerades are _ever_ acceptable,” Diego starts the obligatory beginning of a rant he has already had a few times over. “Are when there is a performance of _Phantom of the Opera_ or if you’re at some sort of bondage party.”

“I would let the record state that both of those options are absolutely fine with me for Vanya and I’s wedding, the latter being highly encouraged,” Five added unhelpfully. 

“I think masquerades are kinda cool,” Luther offered, flinching at the scathing look Allison shot at him.

“See? Luther wants a BDSM wedding!”

“Luther does _not,_ ” Allison snapped. (Technically, even though Allison spoke for him and over him, she was at least right about that.) 

Ben spoke up after being silent the entire time. “Allison, you know this _is_ Vanya’s wedding, right? Well, technically it’s also Five’s, but he suggested a nudist wedding at a pet sematary, so obviously he doesn’t get to have an opinion.”

“I still think the blend of macabre and casual would make for a beautiful spring event.” Five said, not seeming to notice when Vanya elbowed him. 

“I know it’s not my wedding,” Allison’s voice held a razor-sharp edge and Vanya started feeling equal parts nauseous and irritated. “But you can’t spell ‘marriage’ without ‘I’ or ‘me,’ Ben.”

Vanya could feel the rumor’s effects going away. Or maybe Allison’s phrasing hadn’t excluded her from wanting to throttle her. “You _also_ can’t spell marriage without ‘gram’ but I don’t want _my_ wedding to involve Five snorting cocaine off my bare chest.”

“You know, I was joking about the other things, but I absolutely would not be opposed to that,” Five mused. 

“And _you,_ ” Vanya shrieked, turning on Five (despite not actually being angry at him but wanting to yell) who was staring at her with what she was pretty sure to be Five’s expression of fear. “Are never going to add a single goddamn scathing remark about our wedding again! Have any of you ever considered _my_ feelings? All I wanted was a nice, small courthouse wedding to prove to everyone… to _scam Reginald_ out of getting me a violin.”

Five opened his mouth to speak, thought about it, and closed it. 

The bakery owner cleared her throat loudly, and Vanya felt her face heat up as she realized she had inadvertently started yelling in the presence of her. 

Vanya did the only rational thing to do in a situation where one had brought such shame upon one’s self and hauled ass out of there to go find the nearest bar. 

Five found her after her sixth drink, and she remembered the drunken kiss that had somehow led to this scenario and slammed her head against the bar. 

“I think you’ve had enough,” he said quietly, gently pulling her up and frowning in the direction of where she was pretty sure a bruise was forming. 

“I’m stupid,” she announced grandly. “My life is horrible, and I’m stupid.”

“Your life isn’t horrible,” he chided, pulling her up so that he was basically carrying her. “I’m sorry for being a dick.”

“You didn’t disagree about me being stupid,” she was pretty sure she succesfully didn’t slur. 

“I didn’t consider that this was something you actually wanted to take seriously, and I was being a dick mainly because it would piss off Allison. I didn’t think that it might upset you, and I apologize.”

“You wanna know the worst part?” Vanya was pretty certain being drunk was about to make her say something moronic. 

“I have a feeling I’m going to hear it either way,” he raised his hand up a cab driver. 

“Why not spay… spatial jump?” She’d already forgotten what she had been trying to tell him. Vanya was struggling to stand and almost slipped but Five had a tight enough hold on her that she didn’t. 

“Because you’re plastered,” he replied, pulling her into the cab. She leaned on him as he sat next to her. “By the way, I think you will have Allison off your back for about forty-eight hours.”

“Oh, no,” Vanya groaned. “What did you do?”

He shrugged. She was starting to get sleepy from the drink, and she dozed on him on the way to her apartment. Her eyes opened up again when she had somehow gotten to her bed, Five pulling her covers over her. 

“Sorry, you passed out a sec,” he told her. “Want me to grab you a few Advil?”

“Stay,” Vanya pleaded. He sighed, but she pulled him down and he went easily. 

When her head was resting on his shoulder, she asked him, “Are they mad at me?”

“No, but Klaus said that the fake-wedding thing was very cliché of us,” Five said, running his hand through her hair like he was trying to calm her down. 

“Klaus is an idiot.”

“Yeah.” She heard the smile in his voice.

“Can you get the trash can by my bed and put it in close proximity to me for when I wake up?”

Five laughed softly. “Sure. Don’t throw up on me please.”

Vanya yawned, and Five gently commanded her to go to sleep, tightening his hold on her. 

**An Essential Discussion: March 15th, 2018**

Five felt it was necessary to point out the obvious to Allison a few days before the wedding was set to happen. 

“You’ve planned the wedding you wanted with Luther,” he said in a carefully bored tone (he might actually have been bored because he knew where this was going.)

“I did not!”

“Really now?” He flicked a brow up at her, and she glared at him. 

“Yes,” she told him stiffly. 

“Listen, I’m not mad,” he said. “But you know that you should just say something to him. You _know_ he feels the same way.”

“So does Vanya.”

Five scowled at her. They were at the mansion, waiting for Luther and Vanya to meet up with them. Vanya had rehearsal and had agreed to meet here because Luther had asked. Reginald was probably off somewhere giving a pretentious self-congratulatory monologue, but they hadn't seen him since they came inside. 

Grace walked by them then, and they glanced up at her. She didn’t seem to notice Five or Allison’s annoyance, not used to seeing either of them to notice distress. 

“Allison! Five!” she beamed at them, making Five a little uncomfortable. He didn’t know whether or not he was supposed to be nice to the android. “Oh, Five, dear, I got yours and Vanya’s invitation, by the way! I always wondered when you two would tie the knot.”

Five sputtered, forgetting that she was a machine for a second. “ _What_?”

She squeezed his cheek like he was six years old. “You two always did have just an adorable crush. Pogo and I still have photos from the little wedding you two made us do.”

Vanya came in right at the mention of a memory Five had long forgotten, back when Vanya had been called Seven and had made him a friendship bracelet instead of a wedding ring. 

“When we were five?” Vanya asked. “I forgot all about that! Didn’t Five say that he refused to kiss my cheek because it was unsanitary and made us hug instead?”

Five sent a silent “thank you” to whatever kept Vanya from hearing about them having a crush on each other. 

“Five used to be such a germaphobe,” Allison reminisced. “One time Diego sneezed on him during a mission and he cried.”

“I did not cry,” Five snapped. “I don’t cry.”

Vanya laughed. “Hopefully, he’ll let me kiss him this time.”

Five felt then like he might cry. (Not for germaphobe reasons, he just now realized that he’d made a mistake because, even when he was a mere child, he had wanted to be married to Vanya and he still very much wanted that and she did not.) 

“Allison, dear, could you get a message to Ben, Diego, and Klaus to come over soon? I have something I wanted to show all of you before the wedding.”

Allison nodded, looking concerned. They had all sort of figured both Grace and Pogo would not be at the ceremony, so it likely was not that. Grace made them cookies while they all waited, humming a piece that Five recognized as something Vanya once played frequently. Five wondered if she even noticed herself doing it. 

Diego, Klaus, and Ben walked inside together, meaning they had likely taken the same car. Five raised his brows at them, but none of them said anything out loud. He smirked. 

“Now that you’re all here, I regret to inform you all that Pogo and I will not be in attendance. However, we did scrape together something that we hope you all will enjoy.”

Pogo walked downstairs, holding a few boxes. Grace went and grabbed a few as well, placing them on the table. Each one had one of their names on it, and there was an extra of a different size addressed to Five and Vanya. 

“We know that you all did not quite have a… standard childhood, but Miss Grace and I have gotten together something that we have kept pretty well-hidden over the years.”

“We also didn’t want any of you to not feel included,” Grace added with a perfectly suburban smile. 

“Thank you,” Vanya said softly to Grace, and everyone quickly chimed in with their own thank you’s as well.

Inside each of the boxes was a photo album. Allison and Vanya both gasped as they realized, pulling their own open. Vanya nudged Five to open his own, and he sighed painfully but followed her direction. 

All of the pictures in Five’s album had to have been before all of them were even eight. There were a few group pictures, a lot of pictures of himself glaring at the camera, and even more of him and Vanya. There were some of Vanya handing him the (many) friendship bracelets she had made, of Vanya and Five sharing hot cocoa, of Vanya in a tiny white dress and Five in the Academy uniform (because for some reason he had insisted on still wearing it for the fake ceremony Grace had thrown.) 

Vanya smiled down at Five’s book at a picture of Five with an exorbitant amount of bracelets on his arm. “Do you still have any of them?” she asked him softly. He nodded wordlessly, not wanting to admit that he had kept every single one of them out loud because he was afraid she’d judge him. 

“Why does Diego have so many pictures where he is running around naked?” Klaus asked loudly, interrupting their moment.

“Oh, he went through a phase,” Grace gave a small laugh. “As they say, boys will be boys.” 

Ben looked nauseous. “Did you really have to take a picture with the toddler tentacles?”

“They were so small then,” Grace said, beaming. Her smile didn’t feel so artificial she reminisced about them. 

“Why is there a floating cup in this picture of Vanya yelling?” Diego asked. 

Grace went robotic again. “It was a trick of the light, silly.”

They decided not to argue. 

Vanya pointed out a picture to Five of herself in the little white dress, and Five smiled softly. “Why did you wear your Academy uniform by the way?”

“Maybe I was trying to piss off Allison,” he suggested, and she giggled. 

“Maybe she made you try on a ridiculous amount of suits.”

“Did you know she rumored me to do that?”

Grace sighed. “Oh, young love.” 

Five frowned at the android, hoping she noticed his betrayal on his features. 

“Why is Allison in a white dress in all of the fake wedding photos?” Luther asked. 

“Oh, well, she rumored you all to let her get married too instead of Vanya and Five getting a reception,” Grace laughed. “She always was competitive.”

“You’ve stolen _two_ of my weddings?” Five asked her. 

Allison was avoiding everyone’s gaze. 

“Luther made such an adorable little groom, didn’t he, Pogo? Of course, Diego, Ben, and Klaus got so jealous that we did a ceremony for them too.”

“You married Ben, Diego, and Klaus?” Vanya asked. 

“Who knew fifties-style robot moms are more progressive than America?” Klaus asked rhetorically. 

“I’m married to Diego and Klaus?” Ben asked.

“No, dear, but I hope when you three do get married, you’ll make sure to tell me.”

Ben, Diego, and Klaus all looked betrayed at her then. She didn’t seem to notice. 

Vanya and Five were then handed the other present, and Five let her open it, already knowing it would be the violin she had looked for.

It wasn’t. 

“Is this…” Vanya was tearing up. “A… _Stradivarius_?”

“We felt that you would appreciate this more,” Pogo said. 

“So... Reginald felt the violin she had already picked out wasn’t expensive enough and wanted to point out that he was indeed a billionaire?” Five deduced.

“Precisely.”

**This Might Have Been a Mistake: March 18th, 2018**

Vanya pulled Five into the reception hall hiding in a place just obvious enough that none of the others would think to look.

“Isn’t this bad luck?” Five asked wryly.

Vanya didn’t comment, instead yanking him by his tie to get him to lean down. He followed obediently, confused.

And then Vanya was kissing him. Five made a surprised noise, but he didn’t pull away. In fact, he deepened the kiss, already lifting her up to set her on one of the reception tables. 

She had fallen into the cake, something that Allison probably had paid way too much for. Five smirked, licking off the frosting that had landed on her neck. 

“So you’re not still a germaphobe?” She asked breathlessly. He scowled at her, so she started kissing him again. 

“Allison is going to murder us,” Five commented, loosening his tie. She pulled off his jacket impatiently. 

“It’s our day,” she reminded him, trying to figure out how to get out of the dress Allison forced her in. “Do you have a knife?”

Five, who generally had a weapon prepared, wordlessly pulled one out of the jacket that had been abandoned on the floor. 

“Get rid of this dress,” she commanded. 

“Are you sure-“

“It’s covered in frosting.”

“Yeah, but like, aren’t you worried someone will walk in on us.”

“I’m hoping they do, it’ll teach Allison a lesson.”

Five eyed her appreciatively. “You’re my favorite, you know.”

“I know,” she said, eyes softening. They kissed again sweetly, and she realized Five had maneuvered the knife to tear the gown as they did. He set it back into his jacket, not letting his gaze leave her mostly bare body. 

“You’re perfect,” he breathed. She flushed, knowing it reached her chest, and he pulled off the buttons hurriedly off his dress shirt. 

“I’ve wanted this so long,” she mumbled, and he nodded and told her that he had too. She asked him to kiss her again, and he did. She pulled off his pants, and he wordlessly stepped out off the pants and his shoes and socks as well.

“How unsanitary is this?”

“I will not bother telling you every bacteria that is crowded in public places like this as your question was rhetorical and it also would make me lose the opportunity to make this enjoyable,” he told her, undoing the bralette and moving his head down to nip at her collarbone. She whimpered as his mouth moved lower, grinding against him. She reached down to palm him through his boxers, and he made a choked noise. 

“Maybe if you tell me all about the bacteria it’ll last longer,” she teased, and he made sure to look up at her to roll his eyes and maintain eye contact as his fingers looped around the waistband of her panties and pushed them down. 

“I take it back, you’ll do great,” she said, pushing his head down between her thighs. 

“I think there’s cake in my hair,” she noticed absently before gasping out. “Where did you even learn how to do that?”

Five glanced up at her quickly, his chin already wet. “You don’t really want to know, right?”

She shook her head, and he went back to work. She realized that she was basically spread out for him on a table, and the thought made her flush with a slight groan. Five hummed appreciatively, and she felt like he sounded too smug, so she knotted her fingers into his hair and pulled it. The strangled noise he let out was sinful. 

When the pressure started making her stomach tighten, he decided then to pull away. She whined, making him laugh and kiss her gently as he pulled off his boxers. Vanya reached out to guide him to her entrance, and he whispered that he loved her, had always loved her.

“I love you too,” she said, and he pushed inside of her. 

And then Allison walked in. 

“I cannot _believe_ you two,” she gasped, horrified at what she had seen. “That cake you two are covered in costs more than Vanya likely makes in a _year_.”

“I know this isn’t the main concern here, but I think that the fact that a cake could ever cost that much should definitely bother you,” Vanya said. Five had not moved, and she gently stroked his hair to convince him to stay where he was. 

“Allison,” Five said, not moving except to clearly show his disapproving look. “Just have the wedding with Luther. You know that’s what you wanted to do anyways.”

“But…” Allison’s eyes were super wide, and Vanya sincerely hoped they weren’t about to have a heart-to-heart with Vanya and Five trying to fuck on an egregiously priced wedding cake.

“Luther will agree,” Vanya told her quickly. “Now leave unless you want to see Five and I fuck.”

Allison frowned at them, but she left. 

“Did you think it would end this way?” Vanya asked, rolling her hips against him to get him to move. 

“I can honestly say this is better than I could have possibly hoped.”

“You expected everything except the cake portion,” Vanya deduced. 

“Just about. Allison is predictable. By the way, we definitely picked the right flavor, this frosting tastes amazing.”

**A Necessary Addendum: Some Years Later**

Vanya and Five’s actual wedding was at a courthouse, and they both wore suits. Allison was not invited but found out and came anyways with Luther. Diego, Ben, and Klaus showed up together a few minutes before they were getting a stamp by the bored looking judge. 

When they were out of the gaze of the others, Vanya pulled out a pair of friendship bracelets. They had rings too, but these were more important to them anyways. Five smiled at the bracelets, saying that he was glad they would be best friends forever. 

“Oh my god,” Vanya said, glancing over to where the others were standing. “Tell me that Allison did _not_ just pull out friendship bracelets for her and Luther.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! 🥰💕


End file.
